


Like the Gun

by badritual



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Compliant, Don't copy to another site, Drabble, Gen, Mention of Canonical Character Death(s), Mild Angst, Not Beta Read, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 15:20:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28690812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badritual/pseuds/badritual
Summary: Lisa’s not sure why she stops in the middle of washing dishes, elbows-deep in soap suds, and hones in on the news crawl unspooling at the bottom of the TV screen.
Relationships: Ben Braeden & Lisa Braeden, Lisa Braeden & Dean Winchester
Kudos: 11





	Like the Gun

**Author's Note:**

> i started wondering what lisa might have thought if she'd seen that dean had died.

Lisa’s not sure why she stops in the middle of washing dishes, elbows-deep in soap suds, and hones in on the news crawl unspooling at the bottom of the TV screen. 

If anyone had asked, she wouldn’t be able to say why the name— _Winchester_ —snagged her attention. The name isn’t familiar to her; she doesn’t know of any Winchesters, besides the people behind the guns and the kooky mansion out in California. The picture that pops up on the screen—a grainy mugshot of an arrogant man with a smug smirk twisting the corner of his mouth—doesn’t set off sparks of recognition either.

And yet something stops her. 

Lisa dries her hands off on a towel and grabs up the remote, inching the volume up just a bit. 

“—chester, alleged serial killer, long thought dead, is reported to have died in Canton, Oh—” 

Lisa frowns, setting aside the remote to reach up and rub at her throat. She feels suddenly chilled, like an icy finger is running down the back of her neck. Lisa rolls her shoulders in an attempt to shrug the sensation away. 

Had she met this Winchester, once? Could she have been an intended victim?

Lisa shudders and digs her phone out of her pocket. Something within her is urging her to call Ben now, though she isn’t entirely sure why. They talk nearly every day; she’d called him just that morning to tell him she loved him, that she hoped he had a good day.

With a shaky breath, she brings up Ben’s contact and hits speed dial.

He answers after the second ring, sounding harried, rushed. “Mom? I’m just heading off to class, what—”

“Sorry, honey. I just wanted to hear your voice,” Lisa says, apologetic.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she says, forcing a laugh. She rubs at her neck again, but the odd chill lingers. “I just miss you. That’s all.”

Ben laughs indulgently. “I miss you too, Mom. I gotta go. I’m gonna be late.”

“Call me after class,” Lisa says, then hangs up. 

She glances back at the TV, but the news program’s already moved on to the next in a long line of tragedies. 

_Winchester_ , she thinks, the chill finally seeping out from under her skin. Lisa wraps her arms around her waist and sighs. _With a name like that, how could it_ not _be a tragedy?_


End file.
